


Fear the Walking Dead Drabble Collection

by The_Readers_Muse



Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Comedy, Drama, Fluff, Gen, Mild Language, season one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 06:25:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6742897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Readers_Muse/pseuds/The_Readers_Muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Contains a perpetually updating number of drabbles for ftwd.</p><p>- Each chapter will have the prompt/pairing/etc in the chapters note.</p><p>- Please be mindful that the tags/characters/relationships/warnings/ratings will be updated as necessary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tobias - for onedayyoujustchange

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "waiting" with Tobias and your oc's from "Good Code (bad follow through)"

After Mrs. Clark dropped him off, he just kind of stalled. He fell back into old habits as he waited for the news to stop repeating the same damn thing. Waiting for an email from Victor. Eventually brought down to refreshing his game system and twitter feed every twenty seconds, hoping that Gaymer and Pia would turn up and prove him wrong. But they didn't. And by this point they probably never would, one way or another.  
  
He was caught in a feedback loop of shit and he knew it. There were things he should be doing. Things like maxing out the emergency credit card his Uncle had given him - just in case - on food and supplies. Things like putting gas in the car he didn't officially know how to drive yet and trying to find some way to shore up the over sized, street-facing windows that gave him heart burn every time he looked at them.  
  
But he couldn't-  
  
He knuckled a hand through his hair, breathing out heavy through his nose and cringing when his palm came back greasy and red-slicked. It took a minute for the second part to connect and then he was running to the bathroom, color-coating the toilet with what felt like everything he'd eaten in his entire life. Stomach churning as the reverberations of when his knife had sunk into the thing's chest - thudding uselessly across bone - vibrated through his trembling hands like an echo.  
  
Principal Costa had been one of the good ones.

He'd actually cared for the most part.

And now he was dead.  
  
He tripped into the shower, fumbling with the button for his jeans as he flung his sweaty, bloody clothes in the direction of the sink. The water pressure was familiar. Shitty and calcium clogged as it frizzled out of the nozzle, but familiar all the same. He stayed under the spray for a long time. Only cranking it off when the water started edging towards freezing. Almost slipping as he stepped out onto the bathroom tiles. Pushing his hair out of his eyes as he grabbed his towel and unlocked the bathroom door carefully. Edging out into the hall, dripping water, before he called out hesitantly - hopefully.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
The part of him that still held out for happy endings hoped his mother had just breezed in.

That she'd amble in from the kitchen any minute, smelling like cheap rum and lime-tainted salt like nothing had happened.

Giving him a sloppy attempt at a kiss on the cheek before tottering off to her room to sleep it off.  
  
But of course, no one answered  
  
He got dressed and fell back into the couch cushions. Nose twitching as the musty stale of old dust twirled motes through the air above him.  
  
The news was still playing the same footage over and over. Rioting in New York. A massive fire raging out of control in San Francisco. The news anchors at the desk looked disturbingly immaculate despite the fact that they kept losing their prompters and the sound of people yelling off set could be heard here and there as the minutes ticked past. Their mouths were moving but no one was saying anything. Victor said this would happen. It was a blackout of information. No matter what channel, all they were talking about was riots, civil unrest and where you could get your flu shots.

 _Useless!_  
  
He jerked, caught off guard when the news feed abruptly cut off into static. Nearly falling right off the couch when a familiar logo popped onto the corner of the black screen.  
  
_Anonymous?_

 _They'd hacked-_  
  
He cut himself off in mid-thought when a blinking cursor appeared on the left hand side of the screen.  
  
_"Greetings, this is anonymous. This is an open message to the people of the United States. You have been lied to. There are no riots. No civil unrest. The virus is real and it is spreading. There is no cure, re. Latest intelligence from the CDC. The government is suppressing this information to control the population. They will implement Martial Law by sundown. Be prepared. Implement your disaster preparedness plan. If you plan to travel, avoid any and all city centers in your area - all high population clusters - leave immediately. If you cannot leave your residence or cannot leave immediately, fortify and gather supplies. Avoid all contact with infected. 100% reported mortality rate. Do not rely on emergency services. No one is coming to save you. Marginal success in dispatching infected if-"_  
  
Then- then the power went out.


	2. Travis/Madison - for onedayyoujustchange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Travis/Madison - 'shooting star'."

The first shooting star her children wished on was the space station or probably a satellite. But at the time it didn't matter. What that little ball of light was or wasn't was beside the point. They squeezed their little eyes shut and wished. Only pausing to read her the riot act when she didn't do the same.  
  
"Make a wish, mom! Maybe it will come true!" Alicia urged, all frizzy brown hair and such a serious expression that she nearly laughed out loud. Deciding not to draw attention to the fact that Nick was already peeking. Frowning like he wasn't sure if this was considered particularly 'cool' or not, but was keeping one foot in for appearances sake.  
  
So she did. Chastened into mock seriousness as she tacked on her usual wish list and waited until Alicia had finished before clapping her hands and herding the two of them back inside for story time. Privately wondering, on the off chance satellites and astronauts had the ability to grant wishes, if they'd judge her for the ones at the very top.  


* * *

  
"I'm sure it's not as bad as it looks, dear."  
  
She was in the school parking lot, one hand keeping her phone to her ear as her mother clucked sympathetically in the background - nattering about how this was the moment in the movies when the handsome male lead came streaking to the hapless woman's defense - and the other trying to pop the radiator cap with the tiny little screwdriver on her multi-tool.  
  
"Yeah well, my prince charming better come with a screwdriver or I'll-"  
  
"I have three actually, what kind do you need?" a familiar voice answered, close but not too close. Like the medium of space between two strangers was still a given despite the circumstances. The slight lilt of an accent she couldn't place giving the moment layers as she nearly smacked her head against the hood in surprise. "Madison, right?"  
  
She whirled, getting a glimpse of dark curls, and a long sleeved dress shirt. _Travis something- Manawa, maybe?_ She vaguely recognized him from that moment in the hall the other day. Artie had been showing him around. The new English teacher everyone had been talking about.  
  
"I'm Travis," he hummed with a smile, extending his hand for her to shake before ducking his head under the hood. Breathing through the steam of her radiator like it was nothing before pulling away again. Muttering like thinking out loud as he angled off in the direction of his truck.  
  
"I know, I remember," she replied, mouth strangely dry. Soft enough that she wasn't sure he'd even heard her as she watched him reach into the back of his cab and pull out a small metal tool kit.  
  
"Thank you," she added, hastily. Because in all honestly she realized that somewhere along the line she'd forgotten too. Taken off guard by his disarming smile and easy openness in a city that rarely saw much of either.  
  
He smiled again. Or maybe he'd never stopped. Wide and honest and just a little bit endearing as he rolled up his sleeves. "Don't worry about it, I think I can get you patched up enough to make it to the repair shop. I wasn't joking about the screwdrivers either. I got more than enough to figure this out. My truck is always on it's way out so I started carrying more than I needed, just in case."  
  
"Lucky for me," she answered, startling a bit when the phone still pressed to her ear made a tut-tut-tutting sound.  
  
_Oh shit._  
  
"You know what, Mom, I'll call you back, okay?"  
  
"What's his name? Is he handsome? He sounds handsome!" her mom asked eagerly. So loud she knew he had to have heard it. Connection spitting up a stretch of conveniently placed static as fumbled with the call button.  
  
She hung up, caught between a groan and an embarrassed flush as she looked up at him. Fully expecting to have to deal with a knowing, self-satisfied smirk or some chest-puffing ego-tripping that she would be forced to smile her way through to save herself the tow-truck she really couldn't afford right now.  
  
Only- it didn't happen.  
  
Hell, he wasn't even _looking_ at her.  
  
"Oh yeah, you're going to need a new radiator for sure. This one is toast. _Burnt toast_. But don't worry, it shouldn't be more than about five hundred dollars to replace, anything else and they're taking you for a ride. Especially in this car. Hmm...that's stuck on pretty good, huh?"  
  
She blinked, watching him clank around under the hood for a couple minutes before he got off the cap with a grunt and filled it up with the jug of radiator fluid she had propped up against the front tire. Not seeming to notice or care that his black slacks were already smudged with road-dust and dirt. Wincing with guilt as a streak of oil quietly soaked into the folds of his shirt as he leaned down to grab a wench.  
  
"That should do it, start 'er up," he called, prompting her to scurry into the driver's seat and turn the key. Feeling strangely self-conscious as he leaned through the passenger side, eyes on the dashboard.  
  
His grin when the motor started with minimum of fuss from the radiator did something to her she wasn't comfortable putting a definition on.

All she knew was that-  
  
"Great, hope that holds for you. See you on Monday!"  
  
And oh- _wow_.  
  
Now _that_ was interesting.  


* * *

  
She'd forgotten all about shooting stars and last-stand wishes until one night a couple months later.

It was the first time Travis spent the night. And they were out on the back porch, snuggled under more than a few blankets as the crickets hummed from the weeds.

He'd fallen asleep like that a while ago, face relaxed and calm.

But she was still awake. Something tugging at her to tip her head and look up at the sky with a rueful, but decidedly hopeful little smile.  
  
"A little late," she murmured. "But thank you."


End file.
